Page 111 of Sterling Stone

I pull my gaze from Taxi and stare at him. He’s damn right I do. And the best way to make me happy is to get back to my date. Get back to this special night. Her and me. Us.

Leaving my focus on Cort for another second, I hesitate to clap him on the shoulder. An action once easily given and familiar between us. Hell, Cort has hugged me on several occasions a long, long time ago.

I’ve missed the friendship I once had. At times, I’ve convinced myself I only missed the idea of that relationship, but deep down, I know it’s been him I’ve missed.

Cortland Haven. Best friend, cradle to college.

Giving in to the urge, I grip his shoulder. “Thanks.” The word is simple.

Cort stares at me, gaze drifting only slightly to the hand on his shoulder before he relaxes a little bit. Just a smidge, suggesting he’s been as tense around me as I’ve been around him.

And maybe, just maybe, he’s missed me, too.

I know he’s regretful. He’s apologized. He’s tried to atone in his own way. But maybe the thing I haven’t seen is how much of a hole he’s had in his life without me by his side.

He tips up his chin, acknowledging my gratitude.

“Now. How about we dance with our girls?”

We both glance toward the dance floor, where each of them is keeping a watchful eye on each of us.

Our girls.

Cort waves his hand toward them, and I lead us to the dance floor. Stepping up to Taxi, I set her back into the place where I want her to be.

In my arms.

39

[Taxi]

Hours later, Stone and I stumble out of the barn, drunk on dancing while exhausted from exertion.

As we’re tripping over our feet and falling into one another, something out of the corner of my eyes catches my attention. A streak of blond hair just off the dark corner of the barn.

“Is that . . .” I narrow my eyes as the woman is pressed up against the exterior of the barn and then kissed by the person in front of her.

“Oh my God, that’s⁠—”

“Her secret,” Stone interjects, running his arm over my shoulders and leading me toward his truck like there’s nothing to see.

Like Emerson Milton, the town mayor, isn’t getting kissed by the last person I’d expect to see with her.

As we continue to travel over the bumpy grass, I struggle with what I just saw and reckon it with what I’ve known about Stone and Emerson’s relationship.

I glance up at the man whose arm surrounds my shoulders, my heart softening even more for him.

He’s been such a good friend to her. And I should have known from the first time he explained himself that he meant what he said. He was protecting her. Her secret.

When we finally reach Stone’s truck, he helps me into the passenger seat, but before he closes the door, I reach for his shirt and tug him toward me, going in for a kiss I’ve been wanting to give him since we entered the dance.

He smiles against my mouth. “What’s that for?”

“Just for you,” I whisper, slowly pulling back. “Just for you being you.”

He tilts his head, uncertain of my meaning, then he must decide it doesn’t matter. Because he leans in to kiss me again.

“Been waiting all night to do that as well.”